


Breaking Wind

by AshesTheTerrible



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Blowjobs, Embarrassing Situations, M/M, Oral Sex, Slow Sex, cute sex, farting during a blowjob, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 09:37:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15434172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesTheTerrible/pseuds/AshesTheTerrible
Summary: Shiro is settling into his new body and finally trusting himself to rekindle things with Lance.Intimacy proves to be a lot of stumbling after such a long time without.And nobody is safe from awkward bodily functions during sex, not even Shiro.





	Breaking Wind

**Author's Note:**

> Is this a fic about Shiro farting during a blowjob? 
> 
> Yes. 
> 
> Yes it is. 
> 
> Come poke me on tumblr at AshesSmashes i do fanart too!

His lungs expanded to their fullest extent. The satisfying rattle of breath went down deep and spread throughout him as he caught it and held it for a count of several seconds.  
  
One.  
  
Two.  
  
Three-  
  
"If you are this nervous we don't have to."  
  
The gentle, but cutting tone grabbed Shiro out of his own head and threw him back into the present. He hadn't realized how tightly he'd been pressing his eyes shut, or how straight the length of his spine was positioned, tension wrapped around him like a three piece suit.  
  
Shiro let go of the breath he'd been holding captive and his grey, half lidded eyes wandered downward, to the ‘V’ shaped space between strong, strength swollen thighs.  
  
He was greeted by a curious, nearly concerned expression and a pair of blisteringly beautiful blue eyes. Tight, perfect wisps of eyebrows were drawn together over the oceanic globes and Shiro caught a sputter of a breath, trying to pluck the words out of the air but he was having difficulty forming syllables much less full sentences.  
  
He cleared his throat and smiled awkwardly.  
  
"N-no. I'm not nervous. It's fine. I want to do this." Shiro finally managed to protest.

He was met by a soft sigh in response.  
  
"Shiro. I can _always_ tell when you are nervous."  
  
Lance's tone was soft, head tilting to the side as he gazed up from his precarious position on the black paladin's bedroom floor.  
  
Most of the inns and little nooks and crannies they'd managed to find along their tiresome journey back to the blue planet they called home had been disgusting enough for Lance to not even want to take his shoes off...much less get down on the floor with only his soft grey boxers keeping him modest.  
  
But this one was different.

This prestigious little place was tucked away amongst a belt of rebel planets that had rolled out the welcome wagon and then some, as the paladins had come into the system. They'd provided them plentiful meals, fresh beds and _hot water_. Lance had really battled with himself over just wanting to sit in the showers’ stream for the entirety of the evening.

But then he'd received the far more tempting invitation from the black paladin.  
  
Dealing with Shiro's reunion with the living had been...long...and tiresome. Lance was as dutifully patient as he could be. He didn't push to pick up where he and Shiro had left off before the black paladin's disappearance. They shared a collection of heated evenings and that had been the extent of it.

Well, at least that's what Lance was going to tell himself.

It didn't matter that he'd spent the night tucked in Shiro's sheets on more than one occasion. That was still just a casual fuck.

And all the nights he'd comforted Shiro when he'd startled awake, visited by the old ghosts of his past...those were just Lance being a good comrade.

The kiss to Lance's visor once before they'd split apart to their lions...that hadn't meant anything either.

Nope. Hadn't meant a thing.

Lance liked his walls high and fortified.

When Shiro hadn't seemed interested in their night time affairs after his return Lance hadn't questioned. He wouldn't admit to how much it had stung really but he'd accepted it nonetheless.

Now everything was upside-down. It hadn't been Shiro, but a clone, but now Shiro was Shiro, but in the clones body and the details were fuzzy and strange. Sometimes Lance still found himself wondering that if at any moment...Shiro might not be Shiro anymore...but that _thing_ that had nearly killed them all.  
  
Lance tried not to think like that.  
  
He knew Shiro was doing enough of that for everyone.  
  
He was still learning to trust himself.

But Lance was more than willing to follow along at the snail's pace Shiro had set for them. He wanted this. To be here. To help in whatever small way he could.  
  
Shiro reached up with his left arm...his _only_ arm and scratched perfectly cut nails against the nape of his neck.  
  
"Is it that obvious?" Shiro muttered with a shy smile.

Lance gave him a deadpan expression, neck craned back to look upward at the bigger man.  
  
Shiro sighed and nodded.  
  
"Right. Stupid question." Shiro admitted, letting his shoulders go slack.  
  
Lance shifted, lifting up from his sitting position, bringing himself to his feet, long and lean as he unfolded from the floor. Shiro's eyes traced along the extension of his body, full of sinewy muscle and a few more scars that hadn't been there the last time he'd seen Lance this void of clothing.  
  
"Shiro if it's too much it's really ok." Lance said as he cocked his elbows out, hands resting on the sharps of his hips.  
  
The expression he lent Shiro was soft and so understanding it was painful. He'd matured so much. Shiro had watched it of course. From afar. From the black lion, sensing Lance through the mechanical veins of voltron, feeling him grow and become something so much more than the teenager that had first set foot on this trekk.  
  
Now he had first hand accounts of Lance's development...but they were borrowed memories. Something Shiro had acquired when he'd gotten a new home in this body that was his...but wasn't.

"It's just...I feel...like this isn't...mine." Shiro whispered.  
  
Lance frowned at him darkly.  
  
"Stop it. We've been over this. This is _your_ body. Not a clone’s. He's gone. This is you now. Haggar and all that Hocus pocus bullshit, that's gone. This-"  
  
Lance jabbed his finger into the meat of Shiro's left pectoral.  
  
"-is all you. Every inch. All two hundred and whatever pounds." Lance scolded.  
  
The young man deposited himself down onto the tops of Shiro's legs, buttocks planted pleasantly against the larger man's apex.  
  
"This? This is yours’." Lance continued as he ruffled Shiro's snowy locks into disarray.  
  
This gathered a ghost of a smile from Shiro.  
  
"And this? Oh yeah all of this is yours’. Lookit them sweet ass tits." Lance chimed squeezing Shiro's chest.  
  
Shiro snorted out a choked laugh.  
  
"This is yours’ and this is yours’." Lance went on, bopping Shiro lightly on the nose, then reaching behind him to slap two palms against Shiro's thighs.  
  
"Thick." Lance gleamed patting the strong limbs a few more times.  
  
"This is all you. Not anybody else. Just Takashi Shirogane, Garrison Golden boy, head of Voltron, thief of my weak little heart." Lance sang dramatically.  
  
Shiro's giggles bubbled up genuine and loud.  
  
"See. No space witch in here." Lance concluded sticking his finger playfully into Shiro's ear.

Shiro jerked back with a laugh, Lance's finger tickling the sensitive hairs within his canal.  
  
Lance observed the finger with a hum.  
  
"Even this ear wax is yours’. Seriously though you need to clean those." Lance grinned wryly.  
  
Shiro was grinning brilliantly by then, the expression reaching all the way up to the bottoms of his eyes.

Lance very slowly rocked his hips against the meet of Shiro's thighs, eyes slatting into dangerous little slivers as he reached out to carve slender fingers along Shiro's scalp, getting the bigger man to allow his head to tilt backward slightly.  
  
"So. Do you still want to try?" Lance asked, tone nearly a purr as it came up from the back of his throat.  
  
Shiro's lashes were almost touched together, his gaze lazy as he soaked in his partner. A strong arm found the bravery to loop around Lance's slender midsection, palm pressing into plains of sunkissed, freckle dusted, flesh.  
  
"Yeah. I really do." Shiro husked lowly.  
  
Lance's smile was devious and cunning.  
  
"Good."  
  
Lance's palms moved to rest on either side of Shiro's strong jawline, fingers fanning out across the familiar structure.  
  
"If it's too much, just tell me and I'll stop." Lance said, ducking his head a bit, looking straight into Shiro's orbs, down deep into his very being.  
  
Shiro nodded.  
  
"Ok."

Lance's body arched, hunching slightly as Shiro leaned to meet him, sensing where the advancement was going by Lance's motions.  
  
Lance's lips found the corner of Shiro's mouth, pressing a teasingly light peck there. He traced another to the bottom of Shiro's chin, slow, fingers playing in the short hairs of Shiro's temples, the locks cropped perfectly uniform.  
  
And then Lance tilted forward, fingers only stopping their playful ministrations when the young man became far too focused in the newly presented task. Shiro's grip on the blue paladin tightened, thumb pressing into the pad of Lance's hip.  
  
Lance took the kiss and led the way, Shiro could do nothing but follow. The younger man traced his tongue along the seam of Shiro's chapped lips, prodding them open and the black paladin did so willingly.  
  
Lance's motions were eager then, pressing in just a little firmer, folding to the warmth and need blooming like a garden in his stomach.  
  
Shiro tried to participate in the display of affection with grace, but he found himself moving his head too much, tilting a little too far, clumsily trying to catch Lance's tongue as it raced across his teeth...but only successfully causing their teeth to clack together.  
  
He used to be better at this.  
  
Lance leaned back slightly with a hiss.  
  
"Ow." Lance griped playfully.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Shiro's face was sheepish and a little embarrassed.  
  
Lance smiled thickly.  
  
"Just let me lead." Lance prodded gently, pressing their wet heats together again.  
  
Shiro did his best to just allow Lance to move and he trailed along more than willingly. Lance's tongue was warm in his mouth, dancing over his own, licking across the roof of his mouth, exploring the sharps of his canines.  
  
Lance swallowed a moan as it formed in the back of Shiro's maw. Shiro could feel Lance smile against his lips.

Lance tasted like cinnamon. The lingering aftermath of some gum like substitute the residents had provided them with. Something that Lance had promptly tried to blow bubbles with and popped the sticky solution on his uniform.  
  
It invaded every corner of Shiro's senses, drifting up into his head, settling behind his eyes. The sharp hints of spice were comforting and warm and it sent pleasant sparkles fluttering down the length of Shiro's abdomen.  
  
Lance's tongue laved and rolled, teasing at Shiro's own, so much faster, so much more agile, lapping and dancing in time with a tune that Shiro couldn't keep up with.  
  
It was a beautiful, intricate waltz that only someone as stunningly talented as Lance could perform. And Shiro was just left to stumble along as best he could. Lance didn't seem to mind. Shiro's eagerness made up for the sloppy way in which he kissed back.

Lance drew the flats of his front teeth across Shiro's bottom lip, pinching with just the slightest bit more pressure before releasing. This gathered a deep, rumble of a groan from down in Shiro's chest, the tenor vibrating against Lance pleasantly.  
  
Lance pushed back Shiro's bangs, craning the big man's neck as he lifted up onto his knees, weight dipping into the soft mattress they sat upon. Lance continued to stroke and tease through soft locks as he threw himself into the kiss, passionate and firm, body absent mindedly careening into Shiro's in lazy, half hearted motions.  
  
Lance broke away, leaving Shiro gasping for the much needed oxygen.  
  
"I like your new hair." Lance said, thoughtfully playing with a stray strand he'd caught between his digits.  
  
"It makes me look old." Shiro snorted.  
  
Lance made a disapproving noise in response.  
  
"It makes you look sophisticated." Lance corrected kissing the tip of Shiro's nose.  
  
"A nice way of saying old." Shiro grinned.

Shiro watched as Lance slid out of his lap, this time taking a pillow with him as his limber form moved to the floor.  
  
"Are you sure you don't want me to just lay down so you can be on the bed too?" Shiro asked as Lance flopped the extra pillow down and knelt on it.  
  
"I like this angle better." Lance reassured, giving Shiro an award winning grin.  
  
Lance hummed as he gently shoved a finger into the side of Shiro's thigh, opening the paladin's legs just a little wider, stealing any modesty Shiro had tried to keep hold of.  
  
Lance's glimmering eyes scored a hot trail up to the simple, navy boxers hugged across Shiro's groin.  
  
"Plus I like the view way better. That way I can really see you."  
  
Lance's tongue parted his slightly puffy lips, tip darting out to lap a slow, hungry stripe across the bottom pillow.  
  
Shiro's breath clipped off into a broken thing as Lance's words swam through his head.

Lance leaned forward familiarizing himself with the space between Shiro's parted legs once again. The heat from his thighs soaked into Lance's shoulders as the young man settled in, eyelids fluttering closed a bit, flicking a whisp of brown locks out of his eyes.  
  
"Have you...y'know...since you got back...?" Lance asked slowly, cyan eyes peeking upward at the other man.  
  
It took Shiro several moments to respond, too focused on Lance and his every motion to form a prompt answer.  
  
"Have I what?"  
  
Shiro's face screwed up in confusion over the question he clearly didn't understand.  
  
Lance rolled his eyes so hard Shiro feared they might just bounce right out of Lance's sockets.  
  
The blue paladin made an obscene motion with the ring of his fingers.  
  
"Y'know, milked the one eyed snake, choked the chicken, beat your meat, _jerked off_ ?" Lance rattled off giving Shiro a "duh" sort of expression.  
  
Shiro's cheeks tinged with the slightest bit of color and his eyebrows raised.  
  
"Oh. Um...no." Shiro grimaced.

Lance muttered something in Spanish and shook his head.  
  
"You poor thing, you need some release big boy." Lance said as he extended his throat and placed a gentle kiss to the soft inside of Shiro's thigh.  
  
The touch of the youngers’ lips to the incredibly sensitive flesh sent a burn of electricity sparking up the length of him.  
  
Lance extended the sharp of his tongue, tracing a wet, warm line up the pale, scar tattered skin, causing the muscle beneath to twitch and tense.  
"Oh Lance..." Shiro groaned out languidly.  
  
Lance gently pinched the sun starved skin between his perfect teeth and Shiro hissed, fingers wrinkling the ugly patterned comforters.  
  
Lance littered tender, hot kisses along the road map of Shiro's leg, paying extra attention to the uneven, risen flesh of the old scars. Haggar really had outdone herself in every little detail...  
  
Lance mentally scolded himself.  
  
This was Shiro's body. Not a clone. These scars were Shiro's. No matter how they came to be.

Lance's travels came to a halt at the elastic of Shiro's boxers, the material form fitting and leaving very little to the imagination. Including that Shiro wasn't erect as of yet.  
  
Lance didn't let that ding his pride as he leaned forward to nuzzle the warm bulge hammocked neatly at the center of Shiro's underwear. Shiro's entire body tensed at the touch and Lance couldn't help but to grin against the soft, spandex material of the alien undergarments.  
  
Lance's witty little fingers explored the plains of Shiro's strong legs, every dip and curve of swollen, hard earned muscle, big and plentiful beneath the tight layer of skin. The young man mouthed at the heaviness of Shiro's balls through the clothing, eyes quickly flicking upward to greedily catch a glimpse of Shiro's reaction.  
  
The paladin's thick eyebrows pressed together, crinkling the space between in neat little folds, his mouth open just the slightest bit.  
  
Lance inhaled deeply, coming away with the hints of freshly laundered clothing, homage that Shiro had most likely showered as soon as they had been assigned their rooms. Lance was pretty sure they _all_ had made that the top priority on their lists. But there was still hints of something undeniably musky, the scent of flesh, something warm and a little sharp and undeniably _Shiro_.

Lance's eyes settled on his immediate view, consisting of Shiro's impressive lower abdomen, the gentle dips and valleys of his muscles rising and falling shakily.  
  
Lance smiled, slow as molasses, eyes glittering with a playfulness that Shiro so very much adored.  
  
Lance traced the tips of his fingers over the hardened plains of Shiro's stomach, feeling the muscles twitch beneath the ghost of a touch.  
  
Soft lips found their home against Shiro's navel, brushing into the coarse white hairs there. Lance smiled, kissing several times wetly, following the trail downward to the hem of Shiro's boxers.  
  
"So. The carpet does match the drapes huh?" Lance sneered wryly.  
  
Shiro barked out a laugh.  
  
"Unfortunately." Shiro chuckled.  
  
Lance scoffed.  
  
"Unfortunately?? None of that. It's _sexy_. You are like a big bad white lion." Lance growled playfully.

Lance hooked his fingers beneath the elastic of the soft boxers, tugging the material downward playfully.  
  
He could feel the bigger man suck in a sharp breath and hold it there, anticipation gripping him firmly as Lance exposed inch after inch of fragile skin, the young man occupying himself with tracing his tongue down the long sharp cut of Shiro's iliac furrow.  
  
Lance kissed downward, the clothing hitched around the start of Shiro's thighs, just barely exposing the very base of his cock, wreathed in a soft expanse of snowy pubes.  
  
Lance hummed thoughtfully, pausing for much longer than what was really necessary. The man blinked upward, glowering blue irises capturing the low room lights, reflections dancing like candle flames.  
  
Shiro shifted, habitually he attempted to reach out with his right arm, but was rewarded with only slight motion from the gnarled stump that remained there. Lance noticed Shiro's mistake and the dark look that flashed across the man's brow in response.  
  
Lance abandoned his mission between Shiro's spread thighs for a moment, hitching up on his knees to reach out and massage both his palms around the ragged flesh, placing a chaste kiss to the scarring.  
  
"It's ok." Lance whispered.  
  
Shiro nodded as Lance kissed the wound several more times over.  
  
"I'm sure Pidge, Hunk and Allura are already calculating plans for a new arm." Lance reassured.  
  
Shiro nodded.  
  
"I know. But. It feels nice...like this. It's all just...me...no prosthetics..." Shiro said slowly.  
  
Lance smiled and nodded.  
  
"That's right. All you stud."

Lance smiled against the rough skin and after  leaving one final peck, the blue paladin slunk back to his position kneeled before the bigger man.  
  
Lance resumed his slow removal of Shiro's garments, grinning wide and wolfish.  
  
"Lift your hips." Lance purred softly.  
  
Shiro did as he was told, allowing Lance to roll the spandex like material down massive thighs, over scarred knees, down strong calves and finally he drew them over Shiro's toes, tossing them back behind his shoulder.  
  
Shiro's chest heaved with every intake of breath, cheeks full of brilliant color, eyes unable to focus on anything other than the gorgeous young man between his legs.

Lance's eyes did a hungry sweep over the enticing sight before him, Shiro's flaccid cock resting heavy on his sack, framed between a powerful set of legs.  
  
Strong with many battles, having carried him through many hardships and years.  
  
Lance licked his lips, a predator at the dinner table.

The young man mustered a playful pout.  
  
"Aw, hot and heavy makeouts used to get you going instantly." Lance teased.  
  
Shiro's face contorted into an expression of concern.  
  
"I'm...uh sorry it's just...taking a some getting used to...I'm a little nervous..." Shiro stammered.  
Lance smiled.  
  
"Shiro. I'm joking."  
  
Shiro clamped his mouth closed tight.  
  
"I know more than a few ways of waking the beast." Lance followed up wagging his brows playfully.

Shiro bit out a chuckle.  
  
"Please don't call my dick that again." Shiro groaned.  
  
Lance grinned boyishly.  
  
"What?! It's an appropriate nickname for such a monster." Lance giggled with a wink.  
  
Shiro covered his face with his palm, shaking his head a little.  
  
"Lance!" He groaned sliding his fingers down his cheek.  
  
"You know you missed this." Lance teased, sensually pursing his lips.

Lance's attention was yanked from the moment and given back to the man sitting so patiently before him.

Shiro watched him with enamored eyes, so soft and caring that it was almost sickening. Emotion was a strange thing to be seen on the paladin's face, Lance had grown so accustomed to it before...Shiro was gone. Now he was just reacquainting himself with the idea of it. 

Lance leaned in, gravitating toward the enticement like a planet caught in the overwhelming gravitational pull. He moved slow, eager but still wanting to draw the act out for just a long as he possibly could.

It was far more fun that way after all.

Stringing the other man along until he had tears in his eyes and a begging tone on the thick of his tongue. Maybe Lance would make him fall apart like that...or maybe he should be a little kinder in his offering of pleasure. This was the first time they'd embarked on something like this since Shiro had come back to them after all…

Lance's digits curled around Shiro's cock, pulling the pliant skin, flesh bundled thickly at his head. The young man's lashes kissed together as his lids closed, interlacing gracefully.

A controlled expel of warm breath cascaded down Shiro's apex, causing the man to let go of a deep sigh, gaze dutifully cemented to Lance's every movement.

Lance gently rolled his curl of fingers along the soft appendage, tugging teasingly, grinning as he brought the heat of his mouth in close. He clasped the suction of his lips around Shiro's prick, glans tucked neatly away behind foreskin. Very carefully Lance sucked the thick fold, teeth gently nibbling at the sensitive flesh as he pulled backward.

Shiro grunted out a wordless symbol of praise and Lance let loose gently, his mouth was nothing more than a phantom, knowing the skin was tender but oh so susceptible to his tantalizing, teasing nibbles. Lance encased Shiro's tip within his cheeks, allowing the growing member to sit on the flat of his tongue. Lance slowly tugged back on the malleable skin, tongue wiggling beneath the hood, circling over the fattening dome.

Lance gently circled his fingers around Shiro's base, taking the opportunity to fit the entirety of his partner's cock into his little mouth. The window of time he'd be able to accomplish this feat was short, but he enjoyed every second of it.

Lance's tongue wrapped skillfully around the thickening shaft, enjoying the sensation of Shiro growing harder within the hot confines of his jaw. Lance bobbed his head slowly, Shiro's member becoming less pliable, Lance quickly losing the ability to tug and fold it at will. The young man hummed, pleasant vibrations traveling the big man's want and causing his stomach to tighten ever so slightly.

Lance ran his tongue up the underside of Shiro's hardness, the weight of it feeling pleasant and viciously _right_.

Shiro grew still more erect, the other paladin only able to manage about half of the big man's impressive length as his arousal stood attentive and hot. The warm slide of his witty tongue traveled up beneath Shiro's head, teasing at his frenulum, awarding him a low rumble from the other man.

Not quite a moan, not just yet, but Lance had plenty of time still.

He'd draw those sweet, pathetic, wrecked sounds out of Shiro's lungs before the evenings’ curtain call. Lance dipped his head forward, ring of open lips sliding down the girth of Shiro's want, stretched and full, trying to work as much of Shiro into his mouth as possible. He relaxed his throat, breath whistling through his nostrils as he stubbornly made the attempt. Lance gagged around Shiro and pulled off in bitter defeat. Lance popped the wet appendage from his throat, glistening ribbon of saliva still connecting his bottom lip to Shiro's angry, crimson head.

There were words of caution tangled somewhere behind Shiro's teeth, he didn't want Lance to push himself too hard, but he couldn't seem to get them to form on his lips. All he could manage was a ragged breath, the sound coming out rough as asphalt.  
  
The young man had determination draped across his shoulders like a good winter coat. Just one of the many endearing qualities that made up the complicated puzzle that Lance was.  
  
He craned his neck, rosy, soft lips parting to encase Shiro's swollen tip, the point of his lithe, wet organ teasing up his slit as Lance's digits tightened their circle, tugging the still growing member, sliding through the trail of saliva Lance had left behind. Lance hollowed his cheeks, tongue and hand coaxing a fat tear of precome from Shiro's prick. The faintest bit of salt sparked across Lance's taste buds as he continued his exploration, humming, sliding his lips down just a tad farther, allowing his spit to form nice and wet, letting it spill down the hard flesh now held at his mercy.  
  
Shiro sucked in a sharp gasp as Lance's wet heat retracted again, fingers sliding across velvety slick flesh, his piercing eyes coming open to sear holes into Shiro's very soul.  
  
Lance gripped a little tighter, Shiro standing at full erection now, glistening head shiny and wet, foreskin having completely retreated.  
  
Lance seemed uttered pleased with Shiro's state of arousal, cock thick and full curved up towards Shiro's stomach, leaned slightly to the left.  
  
It had been so long since Lance had gotten to enjoy this  
  
But time had not smeared Lance's very detailed recollection of Shiro's every vein, every inch and what really made the big man come undone at the seams. He had spent ample time gathering that precious knowledge and though it had been stored away in a box somewhere in the back of his head...he'd never thrown it out.  
  
Now it was just a matter of unpacking it again.

Lance tilted his chin back, mouth coming open in a slow, wide oval, tongue obscenely extended as he quickly tapped Shiro's underside against it with several wet, heavy, slaps.  
  
He could feel Shiro's legs fall just a bit more open, inviting Lance to do as he wished, giving in, handing that control over a portion at a time.  
  
Lance's vicious gaze crawled upward, color glinting like little lost jewels.  
  
"How's it feel?" Lance asked, kissing Shiro's thick head adoringly.  
  
Shiro scrambled to collect his thoughts, some words, _something_ ...but his mind was everywhere all at once, clouded by the sensation of Lance's warm little licks over the round of his tip, the way the lanky man's eyelashes kissed against his cheeks, the smile that was cracking his mouth, the white of his pearly teeth.  
  
"Use your words, _mi corazon_ ."  
  
The sentence was a mere purr, so low and so enticing that it only caused the pool of molten pleasure in Shiro's gut to coil tighter and hotter. Lance's tongue rolled over the words, caressing them softly before he lent them to Shiro's ears. It had been so much time since Lance had called him that. It was beautiful, warm, even when spoken in such a primal situation.  
  
"F-feels good." Shiro finally managed to wrangle the feeble response, words coming out broken across an incredibly dry mouth.  
  
Lance made a satisfied sound in the back of his throat, his fingers wandering off the beaten path to gently cup Shiro's heavy sack. The other paladin's back went rigid, cock visibly flexing with the new advancement. Lance rolled the loose skin, pressing upward with just enough pressure, always careful and skilled.  
  
"Mmm I bet you are just dying to drain these big boys."  
  
The corner of Lance's mouth tilted into a shit eating grin.  
  
"I'm going to wring every last drop from you."  
  
Shiro all but melted down into a puddle as Lance blanketed him in the nasty sentences, the blue paladin rewarded with an embarrassingly whiney sound from Shiro's grit teeth.

Lance's mouth came to aid his working palm, soft wetness sucking the left into his mouth, tongue gliding across thick skin decorated with coarse white hairs, scratching against his chin as he moved.  
  
Lance came away with satisfyingly wet noise, allowing the heaviness to settle back on the mattress. He immediately went to give due attention to the right, nose buried in wrinkled skin, feeling them draw closer to Shiro's body with the pleasurable treatment. Lance laid down a thick line of saliva as he traced the space between Shiro's cock and his sack, causing Shiro's legs to snap closed just a little bit without his control. It was all reaction then, the flits of pleasure burning against his insides, sending curls of warmth, sparks of electricity, he couldn't help the moan that built itself in the bottom of his lungs and made the journey to his tongue.  
  
It was deep, low, rumbling and baritone. Like a bass drum it hit Lance's ears.  
  
Lance nudged his nose against the side of Shiro's hardness, sucking contently as his long fingers rolled the weight of Shiro's balls, enjoying the sense of power it gave him.  
  
Lance leaned back a little, making a rude noise as he flopped his tongue, having successfully collected more than a few stray pubes. The young man blatantly widened his jaw plucking the unwanted hairs out of the back of his mouth and wiping them on the bed sheets.  
  
Shiro peered downward with a peevish look.  
  
"Sorry. If I'd have known we'd be doing this I would have shaved..." He said softly.  
  
Lance grinned.  
  
"Swallowing a few pubes never killed anyone." Lance snickered.

And then Lance's wanderings were directed back to Shiro's length, peppering light kisses to the thick vein of his underside, lifting up on his knees, one palm never leaving it's rest on Shiro's balls while the other joined in paying attention to the hard shaft before him.  
  
Shiro's head fell slightly, eyes nearly closed, cheeks burning with warm color, his mouth slack as he allowed raspy breaths to pass.  
  
The tight cavern of Lance's mouth encased him once more, his eyelids screwing closed in response.  
  
He'd not allowed himself to have this kind of sensation since his return. The constant struggle with moral had him churning like a dark sea. He was a stranger in someone else's home. An invader.  
  
Lance's words immediately dammed those thoughts from getting through.  
  
_This is you. All you_ .  
  
He chanted the phrase again and again in his head, maybe the more times he said it the more he would believe it.  
  
Lance took notice as the soft sounds of enjoyment from Shiro faded to silence, freeing himself of the obstruction in his mouth so he could question.  
  
"Hey. You ok?" Lance asked, nuzzling into Shiro's bobbing cock, shimmering in the bedroom lighting.  
  
Shiro snapped himself out of his thoughts, eyes rolling open, processing the question as best he could.  
  
Shiro nodded.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah I'm ok." Shiro reassured.  
  
Lance smiled.  
  
"Don't overthink. Just relax. Let go. I've got you." Lance soothed, lengthy fingers drawing abstract shapes over Shiro's hip.

Soft, wet, warm, the silky slide of a talented tongue, it was a combination of ingredients that threatened to bring the structure of Shiro's world crumbling down to rubble.  
  
His soft sighs had transformed into ugly, throaty, less than attractive moans, loud and gaining in strength as he allowed himself to let them go. There wasn't any reason to hold back after all. It was just him and Lance. And Lance seemed pleased with the gutteral sounds, each tenor feeding his already massive ego.  
  
Shiro's palm found the crown of Lance's head, daring to finally touch, to finally become completely encompassed in the moment. Fingers parted through freshly washed, chocolate strands, incredibly soft to the touch. As colorful and lovely as a field of new wheat.  
  
He worried his finger pads over the locks, groaning as Lance bobbed his head at the same time as he suctioned his slender cheeks, the low sound quickly simmering up into a throaty declaration of Lance's name.  
  
It tasted exquisite. It rolled off his tongue in all the right ways. So he said it again. And again. And again. Chanting the lovely title like some old world prayer to a set of unknown gods.  
  
He was loud. So loud. And Lance inflated as he watched the transition with glinting eyes. Shiro was sinking into being comfortable with this, allowing the pleasure to take him by the hand and lead him along. His voice no longer shook with that sense of uncertainty. There wasn't any room within this space for such things. Those dark thoughts had been shoved out the door and banished from the bedroom.  
  
Shiro's grip tightened, big fingers tangling a little more harshly as Lance drew back, flicking the tip of his tongue quickly up Shiro's underside.

Lance's lashes fluttered, not wanting to close them completely, enjoying the view of Shiro's cock disappearing into his little mouth over and over again, attempting to take a bit more, but each time he'd hit his limit, throat constricting around the large member, gag reflex rearing its’ ugly head.  
  
Lance backed off, breathing hard through his nose, mouth so full, spit dribbling down the point of his chin, only adding to the sloppy way in which he sucked.  
  
He grazed the flat edges of his top teeth over Shiro's length, gathering a shudder from the big man, fingernails digging into Lance's scalp a little less than gently.  
  
Lance loved to watch the deterioration of Shiro's composure. Such a prideful, stoic, professional leader having devolved into a lust drunk thing, unable to help the feral nature of his body's needs.  
  
Lance was dangerously skilled at leading such put together men astray.  
  
"Fuck. Fuck. Lance. Fuck, that goddamned mouth of yours' should be illegal." Shiro grunted out, hips leaving the bed involuntary to jerk up into the hot tightness provided.  
  
Lance smiled around Shiro's cock.  
  
He freed himself, not about to let the opportunity to bite off some witty quip pass him by.  
  
He slurped at Shiro's thick head, bulbous and engorged.  
  
"Always been good for fast talking, flirting and sucking dick." Lance preened with a sly grin.  
  
"I'm not going to disagree." Shiro panted out roughly, hand not so subtly dragging Lance back toward his throbbing erection.

Lance flattened his tongue, teasing it around Shiro's circumference, adding a few more raspy, winded gasps from Shiro to his collection.  
  
"Have I ever told you you've got a beautiful cock?" Lance mumbled giving Shiro a pair of his best bedroom eyes.  
  
Shiro looked ragged from his seated position on the bedding, eyes drooped, his cheeks flared and his bangs hanging heavy over his forehead.  
  
"You've...mentioned it before." Shiro stammered windedly.  
  
Lance nosed against the side of Shiro's head.  
  
"Good. Because you really do." Lance praised slowly.  
  
Lance was teasing the gratification of his mouth just out of Shiro's reach. He was fully aware of the game he was playing and Shiro had no prayer of ever winning the match. It didn't matter what the rules were. Lance would always be victorious.  
  
Lance ghosted mean little licks around the length of Shiro's need, just enough to keep the hot want a monstrous beast growling and shifting in Shiro's abdomen, but not enough to feed it.  
  
And then Lance trailed off, kissing Shiro's hip, biting at his stomach, nosing and nuzzling at the crook where his leg met with his groin. Shiro tried to bite back the whimper, but ultimately he couldn't suppress it.  
  
It drifted out pathetic and nasally, catching a flick of Lance's eyes in response.  
  
"Something wrong stud?" Lance sneered.  
  
Shiro's face contorted, brows knit tight, looking about ready to beg like his life depended on it.  
  
"Lance please." Shiro whined, shifting his weight slightly, the mattress groaning with the motion.  
  
"Such good manners." Lance praised.  
  
And Lance went back to addressing Shiro's desperate need. He would go easy on the big man this time. This was, after all, the first instance in which Shiro was actually going to allow himself an orgasm since...well... rising from the grave. Lance wasn't mean enough to keep that from him for long.

Lance's hand moved in time with his mouth, covering the area of Shiro that he couldn't quite manage with his lips. Smart digits curled with just the right amount of pressure, with each stroke Lance would taste the steady drool of Shiro's leaking cock, the scent of spit intermixing with the heady smell of flesh invading his nostrils.  
  
Shiro was so big within his stretched mouth. Lance would never admit to the way his jaw was beginning twinge and ache. He set that small fact aside. It didn't matter. He _loved_ this.  
  
He loved the way Shiro gasped when his tongue lapped over just the perfect spot. He loved the way the big man tensed and shuddered and slumped. All because he was losing his sense of control to Lance's talented lips.  
  
Oh what a lovely sight it was.  
  
Shiro's hips rocked up in experimentation, cock sliding along the writhing plains of Lance's slick organ, trying to keep himself from forcing too far back. But his better sense of judgement was slipping, hazed over and deteriorating in the wake of his looming finish. It had settled down in the depths of his bones, growing larger and fatter and meaner. It was over taking him, filling him, all the way down to the tips of his toes.

Lance's senses were on fire with the sights, the smells, the overwhelming nature of it all. He loved the way Shiro's thickness made it difficult to breathe. He loved the way each intake of oxygen rasped through his nose, not nearly as satisfying as he needed it to be.  
  
Shiro's moans were snarled growls, voice cracking, the muscles of his midsection tightening.  
  
Shiro's head was far off in the clouds, still aware of his surroundings but not really. Everything was incredibly sluggish and fuzzy. His mind was faltering, overtaken by the black glisten of pleasure. All he could focus on was chasing down that thick, satisfaction of his orgasm. It was growing quickly, burning his interior, a forest fire that had jumped the blacktop and was rapidly getting out of his control. He'd be nothing but the charred innards of a structure by the time it had, had its’ way with him. It pushed and pulled and asked and he gave because he could do nothing else.  
  
His fingers were rough, egged on by that mindless passion flooding all his innerworkings. Lance thoroughly enjoyed that he could tell when Shiro's grip was slipping. He knew when the other paladin was about to crumple and break.  
  
"M' close...." Shiro managed to moan, words slurring together as if he'd had one too many shots of nunvill.  
  
Lance's pace quickened, adjusting to the home stretch, eyes parted to watch as Shiro lost control of himself, big muscles flexed, mouth hung open wide.

He grabbed at Lance's mouth, needing it to satisfy himself, unable to keep his hips from fucking into the wetness so readily provided. Lance didn't mind the rough way in which Shiro grasped his hair, choking a little as Shiro thrust in too hard and too eager.  
  
Lance allowed Shiro to fuck his mouth mindlessly, tears collecting in the corners of Lance's eyes as Shiro gagged him. Lance pressed against Shiro's groin to keep him from jolting that deep again.  
  
Shiro was gone, mind blank as he chased down his finish. It came on quick and sudden, when he wasn't expecting it to drop so soon. He'd been teetering right there on the edge for so long he'd become accustomed to it.

But suddenly there it was, coming into brilliant clarity like a bottle rocket ready to be let loose into the night sky. Everything was tight, coiled and cocked back to fire.  
  
Lance could feel Shiro thicken on his tongue, harder suddenly, head inflating as Shiro stilled, hand in Lance's hair shaking slightly. Several breathless seconds were had between them, Shiro's stomach impossibly tight as the time ticked by, nearly there, almost there, like the first drop of a rollercoaster, his gut entering his throat, weightlessness surrounding his senses.  
  
And then it snapped.  
  
The fuse lit, the explosion crackled in the dark.  
  
Shiro's voice echoed through the small room, a bellow of a yell as he crashed. Lance felt Shiro shiver, thighs shaking and the first rope of warm, hot liquid painted across the roof of his mouth and the back of his throat.  
  
Lance adjusted, curling his tongue to greet the next plentiful, powerful expulsion, sticky and salty flooding his maw mercilessly.

Shiro's hips snapped upward, an involuntary reaction as the orgasm grabbed him by the throat and brought him to his knees.  
  
His sentences were mixed jumbles of Lance's name and curse words he'd forgotten he knew. Every muscle flexed as his cock jumped, unloading everything that had been built up for weeks into Lance's more than willing mouth.  
  
Lance swallowed each wave, some escaping his lip and traveling down his chin obscenely. Shiro's grip in his hair did not let up, abdomen rippling with each shuddering breath, curling his toes, mind blanked to white, sparkling with ecstasy.  
  
Everything constricted, pulsing and pushing and he was pretty sure he'd never cum so hard in all his days alive.  
  
He wouldn't allow Lance to come off his dick, still writhing with each wave of orgasm, body tightening each and every time.  
  
He bit his lip as his lower body flexed with another cumshot his ass tightening, body simply reacting to the tension of certain muscles and the relaxation of others....  
  
And then...it happened.

A pocket of gas trapped in his gut that he hadn't even known was there, pushed along by the tension of the orgasm until it was brought to fruition.

It started low, a squeak almost, configuring into a long, deep, disgusting rumble before trailing off in the end. The sensation of the flatulence vibrating along the pocket between his ass and the bed was absolutely _mortifying._  
  
The sound ripped through the room, too loud to pass it off as anything other than exactly what it was. It couldn't be concealed by a groan, or an excuse made for it. It just was.  
  
Shiro felt his cheeks sear, the final moments of his orgasm abruptly halted by the fact that he'd just blatantly broken wind...while his cock was still inside Lance's mouth.  
  
Lance allowed Shiro's wilting erection to slide from his lips, fingers still wrapped around the base, his brows high and bewildered. The look on his face was a mixture of surprised and confused. He was still processing, the two men staring at each other in horror.

And then Lance's face cracked.  
  
He couldn't hold it a second longer.  
  
"I-I...oh my god I'm so sorry..." Shiro stammered in overwhelming embarrassment.  
  
Lance was laughing so hard the sounds were coming out in screechy little wheezes and hiccups the young man nearly bent in half with giggles. He patted Shiro's thigh as he tried to catch his breath, only thrown into another fit of laughter as he waved his hand dramatically.  
  
"Holy shit what did you eat!? That is _rank_!" Lance howled.

Shiro hid in his palm, shrinking in on himself until Lance bullied his way into the other man's lap, grabbing his fingers and pulling them away.  
  
"Just when I thought I had the trophy for the nastiest farts on the team!" Lance wailed, still struggling to catch his breath.  
  
"Lance!!" Shiro whimpered with a frown.  
  
"Oh don't act all shy and shit. Laugh a little, _it's_ _funny_.” Lance cackled.  
  
Lance's giggles slowly ebbed away the initial embarrassment and Shiro broke a small smile.  
  
"I can't believe that just happened." Shiro groaned.  
  
Lance pecked kisses across the other man's face, right along the scar, still giggling wildly.

Shiro let his shoulders drop as Lance leaned against him, still vibrating with laughter.  
  
"You made me laugh so hard I lost my boner." Lance complained lightly.  
  
Shiro gave him a concerned expression.  
  
Lance waved away the other man's worry.  
  
"It's fine. I just need a second." Lance snorted.

Shiro flopped backward on the bed, taking Lance with him, finally laughing himself.  
  
"Nothing to make you feel more alive than farting during a blowjob huh?" Lance prodded giddily.  
  
Shiro shot him a dark glare.  
  
"You are the worst." Shiro shot the insult out playfully.  
  
"I know." Lance grinned folding his arms on the thick of Shiro's chest.

Their laughter settled slightly, Lance still wiping at his eyes before sighing out heavily.  
  
"I missed hearing you laugh like that"  
  
The words were gone from Lance's lips before he could rope them back in and stop their development.  
  
He averted his eyes from Shiro's, looking just to the side of Shiro's ear, not really focusing on anything in particular. The words were so true and raw that they stung Lance's throat. His mouth immediately felt like a desert atmosphere.  
  
Shiro sat up slightly, wanting to catch Lance’s gaze but Lance was determined to stare off at the wall.  
  
Shiro's hand soothed a wide circle over Lance's thin shoulder, strong with lean muscle, touching at the faded scar there.  
  
"I missed you."  
  
Lance felt Shiro's words roll through him like a river having broken loose from the bank. It rushed over him. He was drowning in it.  
  
Lance dared to settle his baby blues on Shiro's face. A line of blush was still painted there, eyes looking tired and heavy with post orgasm bliss.  
  
"You don't mean that." Lance scoffed.  
  
Shiro frowned darkly.  
  
"Yes I do."  
  
Shiro paused for a moment.  
  
"You are the only one who knows how to make my laugh like this"

Shiro shifted, rolling to his side, draping his heavy arm around Lance's form. They were pressed close, the scent of sweat clinging to the air, Shiro's chest still rising and falling with erratic breaths.  
  
A line of delicate kisses were placed over the sharp of Lance's jaw, Shiro taking his time in offering them, finally coming to Lance's lips.  
  
Their mouths met and the action was easy and tired but didn't hide the fact that it was _wanting_ ... that Shiro was trying to start something more.  
  
Lance jolted slightly as Shiro's fingers left their place on his shoulder and made a bold trekk down to the crotch of the young man's boxers, massaging very softly.  
  
"Shiro we don't have to. I know this was a lot to take in. I mean, this was a great start, but don't worry about me." Lance laughed softly.  
  
"Did I really kill the mood that badly?" Shiro pouted.  
  
Lance scrunched his nose up.  
  
"What? No. Dude I fart all the time. I just...know you wanted to take things slow." Lance said with a nervous laugh.  
  
Shiro palmed at Lance's tight sack, rolling each teste through the grey boxers briefs, Lance's breath hitching as a result.  
  
"I want to though. I want to make you feel good...like I used to..." Shiro whispered.

Lance groaned, lengthening his body out on the bed enjoying the way Shiro's big fingers played him like an expensive violin. Shiro kissed Lance's cheek, then the corner of his mouth, before he found his target against Lance's abused lips. Shiro slipped passed the barrier of Lance's teeth, sliding their tongues together in a far more confident dance than their first kiss of the evening.  
  
Lance tasted sharp and heady, lingering with the aftermath of Shiro's finish. Shiro kissed more eagerly, enjoying the taste of his own pleasure.  
  
Lance moaned against his lover the sound muffled by the press of skin, sinking into the deep pool of the display, Shiro's palm coming to gently rest on the back of Lance's head as the action deepended.  
  
Lance was enamored with the enthusiasm Shiro was dripping with, less timid, contorting into the Shiro that Lance remembered. The Shiro he'd spent so many countless, breathless nights tangled together with like a ball of twine. Knotted and tied and unable to be pulled apart without careful concentration. For a moment this was the Shiro that had slipped into his shower stall, sporting nothing but a smile, and had pressed Lance into the wall covering his mouth while he hitched Lance's legs up over his arms so easily. This was the Shiro he'd fallen asleep beside many times when they had been too tired after a furious bout of fucking to separate to their respective rooms.  
  
He'd missed this Shiro.  
  
So much.  
  
More than he'd ever readily admit out loud.

The two broke for breath, gasping the much needed oxygen before Shiro returned to lightly nibble Lance's worried, red, bottom lip.  
  
And then his big hand was traveling, off across the thin frame of Lance's body, following every dip and curve. Fingers drew lengthy paths down the arch of Lance's neck, over the hill of his shoulder, following the rise and fall of his midsection, finally coming to rest on the round of his pert little ass.  
  
The bigger man gave a not so subtle squeeze and Lance gasped against Shiro's nose, neck extending, fists balling against Shiro's chest.  
  
It was such a small, needy, beautiful sound that Shiro had not heard in what felt like eons. He fed off the gentle tone, mystified as Lance's eyes closed, cheeks beginning to burn, his hips instinctively jerking forward into Shiro's body.  
  
"Shiro..." Lance whispered, moving to bury his face in the mass of Shiro's throat.  
  
Lance nuzzled against Shiro's pulse, still thrumming quicker than normal.  
  
Shiro chewed his lip for a moment before gathering the bravery to slide his fingertips past Lance's hem, slipping them into the crack of the blue paladin's rear.  
  
Lance made a small sound, rump moving backward, inviting the fingers along, his thigh moving to tuck tightly up between the meet of Shiro's legs. It was as if he just couldn't seem to get close enough to Shiro, scooting ever nearer, wanting that big warmth to his front.

Shiro's hand delved deeper, eyes hooding as his first two fingers glided the valley of Lance's cheeks, finally coming to the puckered ring of flesh he'd become so accustomed to at one point in time. Lance mewled, long and low and breathy, his lips hot against the side of Shiro's neck, moving to his collarbone as he shuddered.  
  
It was a featherlight touch, just barely encircling the taut flesh.  
  
Shiro really rather wished he'd thought ahead and come up with some type of lubricant...but when he'd invited Lance into his room he'd been nervous at just the thought of kissing the young man...much less going any further.  
  
Another time. He would have Lance that way another time. They had time now. To reunite, to re-explore each other. To familiarize themselves once again with every inch of one another's body.  
  
Shiro tapped the pad of his thumb against Lance's opening, the muscles twitching in response, hole fluttering before tightening once more.  
  
"Next time." Shiro whispered in Lance's ear before reclaiming his hand from the other man's underwear.

Lance whined in protest, which earned him a kiss to the hair from his lover.  
  
Shiro shifted slightly, palm rubbing across the front of Lance's boxers, pleased with the hard outline he found awkwardly tucked against the side of Lance's thigh, constricted by the tight material.  
  
Shiro rubbed his thick thumb across Lance's clothed erection, feeling Lance throb into the simple touch. Shiro squeezed the warm member up against Lance's leg, rolling the young man's head gently.  
  
Shiro rubbed beneath Lance's glans, pleasantly aware of the damp spot forming there, pre leaking through the cloth.  
  
Lance shivered and careened, tossing lanky arms around Shiro's shoulder in wreath made of all elbows.  
  
Shiro wanted with all his heart to be as skillful of a tease as Lance was, but he wasn't. He'd never been. He loved to see satisfaction plastered across Lance's cheeks. He liked the way Lance moaned his name. He adored the ugly face Lance made when he came.

As soon as Shiro began tugging the elastic of Lance's waistband Lance's hands moved to hurriedly aid in the removal, his cock springing free eagerly.  
  
Shiro sighed out roughly, peering down Lance's heaving form, smiling as Lance guided Shiro's hand downward, bossy in getting what he wanted.  
  
"You are eager." Shiro whispered as he found Lance's lips, smiling against them.  
  
Lance kissed back softly, out of breath, hissing as Shiro's calloused digits tightened around his shaft.  
  
"It's been...a while since I've y'know...gotten a handie from anyone..." Lance laughed cheekily.  
  
"Not since you were gone."  
  
Shiro's eyes roamed Lance's face carefully.  
  
"And your clone didn't seem to have any recollection of...us."  
  
The words stung Shiro's down to his core. He brushed Lance's bangs back tenderly.  
  
"Lance, I'm so sorry..." Shiro started, but Lance cut him off with a hard kiss.  
  
"Stop. He wasn't you. None of that was your fault. You are here now and I'm hard as fuck. So please _, please_ don't stop." Lance huffed.  
  
Shiro nodded slowly, smiling at Lance's sassy tone.

Shiro slicked his palm with saliva, Lance groaning at the wet sound as Shiro slid the halo of his digits around Lance's need.  
  
Lance's hips twitched into the touch, moaning out loud and unbridled, cock flexing eagerly.  
  
"Oh god Shiro, Shiro..." Lance sang, voice constricted and high.  
  
The big man silenced Lance with a kiss, stroking him slow at first, in long, firm glides, pressing up Lance's slit, coming away with a thick, wet drool of pre. Lance leaked onto his fist, strings of silvery fluid spider webbing between Shiro's hand and Lance's prick.  
  
Shiro missed how sloppy Lance got when aroused, he'd adoringly teased him with the nickname "leaky faucet" on more than one occasion.  
  
Lance was red faced and beautiful, body moving against the comforters, shivering and grabbing at any part of Shiro he could get hold of.  
  
"N-not gunna l-last long." Lance whimpered pathetically.  
  
He never really did.  
  
The young man had a hair trigger but could go all night, multiple times if Shiro would agree to try and keep up with him.  
  
Shiro hummed out in enthuse, tugging the firm flesh just a little faster, straying to toy his fingers over Lance's retracted sack, fiddling along the wrinkled seam down the middle.

Lance threw his neck back, body arching like a well made bow being drawn back to fire.  
  
Shiro wished he had more than one arm to cradle the young man in the same moment he coaxed him to his finish...but Shiro quickly reminded himself that he couldn't dwell on things like that. This was him. What was left of him. And it was just fine.  
  
He was good enough.  
  
Good enough for Lance and good enough for himself.  
  
Lance's nails carved moon shaped divots in Shiro's pectorals as the man gripped him for dear life.  
  
"G-gunna cum, I'm gunna cum." Lance cried out, mouth hung wide, drool running over his lip.  
Lance's vision sparkled at the edges, crinkling with bright explosions of color. He wasn't even aware he was holding his breath, his stomach convacing tight as he pulled it in, his every muscle tense. Shiro's hand was massive, able to cover over half of Lance's cock, his strokes fluid and confident each one hitting home to Lance's gut.  
  
The white heat clawed its’ way out of the cage of Lance's ribs and shredded through him as if he were tissue paper.  
  
His cry was loud, nearly a scream, and Shiro was sure every ear in this hotel could hear it. Lance's face screwed up into a twist that looked like partial pleasure, partial pain, and maybe an oncoming sneeze. Shiro smiled as he observed Lance's very infamous orgasm face.  
  
The warm heat of Lance's pleasure spackled up Shiro's stomach and onto the bedding, Lance twitching and rutting into every wave of his end.  
  
His cock pulsed and jumped, emptying himself in the small space until he had nothing left to give, the remnants of his ecstasy running in lazy streams over Shiro's knuckles.  
  
Lance hung then, a puppet with all his strings cut, boneless and spent heaving into the tepid air.

Shiro dabbed his fingers in Lance's sticky finish, grinning wide and proud as his partner slumped in an unmoving heap. It was the perfect moment for a slow set of forehead kisses, Lance mumbling into the action tiredly.  
  
Shiro revelled in the peaceful, slow moment as they came down from the highs of pleasure. An exploration mission having gone more than successful. Everything about the ticking seconds that turned to minutes was so very sluggish and so very...warm. Like coming home. This was home.  
  
Lance was home.  
  
Shiro had been away for so very long. He'd avoided this type of intimacy for fear of himself...or more _not_ being himself. All of this was silenced by the flowers of warmth opening their petals in his chest.  
  
Shiro held Lance tight in his awkward, unbalanced hug, feeling the other man draw in every breath then expel it tiredly.  
  
The lethargy hit Shiro like a freight train, his eyes suddenly so heavy he could hardly keep them open.  
  
He yawned loudly and groaned into Lance's hair.  
  
"I've got to get up and find something to clean you up with or I'm going to fall asleep." He muttered.  
  
Lance only mumbled something incoherent back.

Shiro untangled himself from Lance's sinewy body, getting grunts of protest for his troubles. Shiro ruffled his hair, eyes flicking to Lance as the man lazily pulled up his boxers, not caring about the cum that he'd smear along the inside. Lance rolled away from the dark stain he'd left on the comforters and onto his stomach, flopping down heavily.  
  
"So who's sleeping on the wet spot?" Lance mumbled.  
  
Shiro snorted and fondly patted Lance's ass with the flat of his palm.  
  
"Well it's my room and you made the mess so certainly not me" Shiro grinned.  
  
Lance laughed.  
  
The bigger man hauled himself off the bed and bent to grab for his boxers that had ended up in a sad heap on the bedroom floor.  
  
Using the perfect timing as Shiro snatched the garments, rear in the air, Lance blew a rude, wet, raspberry sound with his mouth.  
  
Shiro snapped upward, eyes narrowed at Lance darkly. Lance was laughing hysterically from the mattress, making a few more fart sounds for good measure, unable to control his giggles.  
  
"I'm going to kick you out." Shiro warned, but Lance knew the threat was hollow.  
  
"Mm hmm. Sure you are." Lance sang.

Shiro returned with a wet cloth, having cleaned himself adequately. He then tackled the task of shaking Lance awake enough to wipe him down as well. The young man had managed to drift off to slumber in the mere five minutes of Shiro's absence.  
  
Shiro rolled Lance off the comforters, getting grumbles of distaste from Lance's tired form as he found a new position and settled back in. Shiro shoved the stained comforters off onto the floor and tossed a few extra blankets he'd found in the closet over the sheet clad mattress.  
  
He deposited himself down heavily, bringing Lance back into his chest, nosing into the soft hairs at Lance's nape. Lance wriggled himself backward, purposefully pressing his rear into Shiro's groin.  
  
Lance made a content sound, grabbing Shiro's hand and holding it in both of his own.  
  
"This wasn't...too much for you?" Lance questioned, voice laced with exhaustion, teetering dangerously on the edge of slumber.  
  
Shiro kissed behind Lance's ear.  
  
"No. Not at all. I...really needed this." Shiro breathed.  
  
"Are you ok with me sleeping here?" Lance asked after a long pause.  
  
Shiro nodded almost too quickly.  
  
Lance smiled.  
  
"Good. Just don't wake me up in the middle of the night with your farts." Lance snickered.  
  
Shiro rolled his eyes and managed to fumble for the remote that extinguished the room lights.  
  
"Go to sleep Lance." Shiro grumbled.  
  
But Lance could hear the smile in his words.  



End file.
